Intervention
by Sennalyn
Summary: When Mike gets sucked into a cult, can Johnny get him out alive? Complete.


**Intervention**

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**Disclaimer: **_"Emergency!" and its characters are owned by Mark VII Productions and Universal Studios. No infringement on any copyrights or trademarks is intended in any way, shape, or form. This is just a story, and is meant for fun, nothing else. Enjoy! _

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Mike Stoker woke long before the morning tones went off, but rather than get a head start on the day, the engineer lay in his bunk listening to the sounds of his colleagues sleeping around him, and sighed. Another shift was about over. Another couple days off with nothing to do, and no one to do it with, loomed before him. He could tell by the light streaming in through the curtained windows that it was going to be another beautiful, sunny summer day.

He also knew from the conversations going on around the station the day before that Johnny Gage was headed up to the lake for some fishing, and he'd invited fellow shift-mates Chet Kelly and Marco Lopez to go along. The trip had sounded like fun to Mike, but Johnny had not extended an invitation to him. Johnny had asked his paramedic partner Roy DeSoto, but the man had plans to take his family to Disneyland, and Captain Hank Stanley had made his intense dislike of fish well known before John could even turn to him. Moments later they'd gotten a call to respond to a large warehouse fire, effectively ending the conversation. Once they'd returned from the fire, it was late, and everyone was tired, so they'd just gotten cleaned up, grabbed some food, and had gone to bed. The night passed quickly and quietly, with no runs, and now they were moments away from . . .

Even though he was already awake, the loud, sharp morning test tones startled Mike and he jerked, sitting almost straight up in bed. Rising, now, along with the others, he stuck his feet in his boots, and stood, pulling his heavy turnout pants on by the suspenders. He waited for Marco, Chet, and Johnny to shuffle by, but cut in front of Roy, who was dawdling anyway, and headed for the locker room to change.

He heard the shower running, and Chet's high-pitched screeching as the cold water washed over him. Mike shook his head and smiled. Chet always took a cold shower first thing in the morning, "to get the blood flowing," he said. Moments later, a wet, shivering Chet Kelly rushed to his locker, wet feet slapping on the floor.

"Oh, _man_ that's cold!" he exclaimed, doing a little jumping dance in front of his locker in an attempt to warm up.

Mike snickered and finished getting dressed just as Johnny and Marco came in.

"Hey, hey, hey," Johnny said with a grin, "everyone ready for some really good fishing?"

"Yeah, man, this is gonna be great!" Marco agreed.

Chet just nodded, still shivering, his teeth chattering too much to speak. He dried off, dressed quickly, and headed off to the kitchen for some hot coffee, Johnny and Marco laughing after him.

"Man, that guy is crazy!" Johnny said, and Marco didn't disagree.

"Yup, he's definitely a strange one!" Mike said as he came around the corner of the lockers.

_It's now or never,_ he thought. _Johnny'll either invite me to go fishing with them, or not._

"Hey, Mike, what are you doing today?" Johnny inquired.

Mike's heart pounded._ This is it, he's gonna ask me to go with them!_ He thought. _Don't look too anxious!_

Mike shrugged nonchalantly and replied, "Oh, nothing much, you know. Just hanging out, doing laundry, that kind of thing. Why?"

"Oh, well we were . . ." Johnny began just before the klaxons rang out.

_Squad 51, man down, 5770 Logan Lane, 5-7-7-0 Logan Lane. Cross street Mason. Time out: 07:25._

Everyone headed out to the engine bay, even though the call was just for the squad. Mike's heart sank as he watched Johnny leap into the squad and slam the door. There went his invitation. There went his chance to hang out with his station mates socially. The whole fishing trip had been Johnny's idea to begin with, so he was certain neither Chet nor Marco would think to invite him. Johnny alone issued the invitations. Mike sighed as he watched the squad peel out into the bright new morning, and didn't notice the captain's approach until the man clamped his hand on Mike's shoulder.

"Say, isn't it about time you got those flags up, Mike?" Captain Stanley asked, smiling.

"Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot," Mike replied, and went to the cupboard to retrieve the California state flag, and Old Glory.

Mike headed outside with his burden, squinting at the bright light, but enjoying the feel of the warm sunlight on his face. He made quick work of his flag raising duty, and was just standing back admiring the waving flags when a young woman approached him. She was slight and petite, dressed in a simple flowing white tunic with a rough hemp rope tied around her tiny waist, and rough leather sandals on her small feet. She had a halo of flowers atop her head, and her long blonde hair flowed over her shoulders like a golden river. In her small hand, she held a small stack of papers. She smiled at Mike warmly and extended one hand with a piece of paper held between her slender index finger and thumb.

"Peace be with you, brother," she said. "Why don't you join us, if you're not doing anything today?"

Mike reached out and took the paper from her, but his eyes never left her face. She was pretty and young, and seemed very, very happy. He instantly envied her. She was so serene and content, like she didn't have a care in the world. Like she didn't have the responsibility of driving a huge fire engine quickly but safely through the city streets and beyond, and making sure the water pressure was just right for the men holding the hoses, dousing the flames. Like she had tons of friends and people who loved her and enjoyed spending time with her. He shook his head to dislodge the ridiculous thoughts, and tried to smile back at her.

"Thank you," he said.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Mike," Mike replied. "Mike Stoker."

"My name is Serena, and I'd like to be your friend," she said. "You don't need to be alone, Michael, we're here for you! I hope you'll join us."

Mike was stunned. How had she known he was alone? How had she known what he was feeling? He looked behind her, and saw three other people, two young girls and a young man, all similarly dressed and adorned, and smiling, watching him and Serena. They waved at him, and without knowing why, Mike waved back.

Serena took two steps to close the gap between them, and stood up on her tip toes to whisper in Mike's ear.

"We look forward to seeing you later," she said, her breath warm against his skin, and smelling of peppermint. Then she turned and joined her friends. They waved at him again, and after Mike waved back, the group turned and walked up the street. The lone fireman stood staring after them long after they'd disappeared around the corner. A car horn on the next block startled Mike out of his reverie, and he reluctantly headed back inside the station.

He heard voices coming from the kitchen, and instantly recognized the booming voice of B-shift's engineer, Lex Morgon.

"So, what are you boys going to do on this fine day?" he was asking with his usual bravado.

"Well, Marco, Johnny and I are headed up to Big Bear for some fishing," Chet answered.

"Yeah, provided Johnny gets back soon!" Marco said, glancing down at his watch.

"Well, that sounds like fun," Lex said. "Have a good time. Hey,_there_ he is!" Lex announced as Mike walked through the door. He had been listening to the conversation, once again disappointed that he wasn't going fishing with the guys.

"Hey, Mike, never fear, your replacement's here! Go on, get outta here, and enjoy this _gorg_eous day!" Lex stood and clamped a beefy arm around the engineer's shoulders. "What are you up to today, Mike? " Lex asked. "We've got a couple fishermen over here, so what about you?"

Mike blushed at the attention as all eyes turned to him expectantly. He stammered a bit, trying to think of something interesting he could tell them he was going to do that day, then remembered the paper in his hand. For the first time he looked at it, reading the address to himself. Then smiled and said. "I'm gonna hang out with some friends of mine!"

Later that afternoon, Mike Stoker pulled up in front of an old, run down, three story mansion. Stepping out of his car, he eyed the dilapidated building skeptically.

_This **can't** be the place,_ he thought. _Surely no one would live **here**._

He pulled the folded up piece of paper out of his pocket to check the address, and was somewhat dismayed to find it was correct. He considered leaving, but the memory of the pretty girl with the warm, friendly smile stopped him. She said she wanted to be his friend. She seemed like a nice person, and seemed so happy and content. Her friends had seemed nice, too, and Mike felt himself drawn towards the house. Drawn towards the possibility of sharing in their happiness. Tentatively, Mike climbed up the stairs to the crumbling porch, smiling unamused at the faded "Condemned" signs posted on the rickety pillars and peeling front door.

_Apparently someone wasn't paying attention,_ he thought. _This is really dangerous! This is a fire hazard!_

He stood for a moment listening for any signs of life coming from inside the house. He heard nothing but the chirping of birds, and the rustling of the breeze through the dried bushes.

_There's no one here,_ he thought, sadly, yet somewhat angry with himself. _Why would there be anyone here? Nobody in their right mind would hangout in a dump like this! What was I thinking? She was probably just a figment of my imagination, anyway!_

Mike sighed and was just about to give up, and leave, when the front door creaked open. The same lovely young girl who'd approached him outside the fire station, now greeted him.

"Michael! I'm so glad you came," she said, clasping his hands in hers, her smile almost blinding. "Please come in."

Without waiting for a response, she gently pulled Mike inside, then turned to close the door. Mike slowly looked around, taking in the scene. The house was just as run down inside as it was out, but Mike could see where the residents had tried to brighten up the place. The wallpaper was peeling from the walls, only to be replaced with colourful swirls and other designs, snatches of poetry and prose, half finished sketches, and random splashes of psychedelic colour. It was bizarre and beautiful at the same time. The hardwood floors were dirty and chipped in places, most of it being covered by various carpet remnants and hand-woven rag rugs. Most of the furnishings appeared to be from the turn of the century, but there were modern elements like beanbags, and the rounded plastic chairs like they had in the cafeteria at Rampart.

"Come," the girl said, leading Mike once again by the hands. "Come meet everyone."

She lead him into what was, in it's day, a bright, sunny sitting room. Once furnished with elaborately carved and highly glossed wooden tables, and plush sofas and chairs, the room had probably once seen the home owners entertaining some of the most prominent and influential residents in the city. Now, it had dozens of over stuffed pillows on the floor, most of which were occupied by a young man or woman simply dressed in a flowing white tunic tied at the waist with a simple hemp rope belt. Some people had leather sandals on their feet, while others went barefoot. They wore flowers in their hair, or had their faces painted with bright flowers or peace signs.

_These people are hippies!_ Mike thought, trying not to laugh out loud. _Flower Power Hippies! I thought the whole hippie thing was over with in the sixties! These people must be stuck in a time warp or something!_

Candles burned all around the room, and a soft haze of smoke hung up near the ceiling smelling of Patchouli and Lavender and Musk. Serena - Mike finally remembered the girl's name - lead him across the room. He was greeted by smiles and soft words of greeting, and he responded with a nod and a polite smile. Serena indicated a large, overstuffed pillow, and Mike sat down on it, the girl sitting down next to him.

Initially nervous and tense, and later amused by the realization that he was spending his day off hanging out with a bunch of hippies, Mike began to relax in this peaceful, fragrant atmosphere, where everyone seemed so happy and content. The smell of the incense and the soft buzzing of hushed conversations gave him the sensation of floating. He wondered briefly what else was burning in the room besides candles and incense, and managed to catch himself before he chuckled out loud. He was determined not to embarrass himself. Mike did not speak, nor did he ask any questions, despite the hundreds that shouted in his head. One voice, however - his reasonable voice - could be heard above all others:

_Be quiet, be observant, and all will be revealed._

Soon a new man appeared, dressed in the same garb as everyone else. Mike couldn't quite guess his age, but the man's long brown hair was spiked with grey, and pulled back into a ponytail. He began to feel terribly overdressed in his jeans and t-shirt. Mike had removed his tennis shoes and socks, but he still felt like he was wearing too much. The man sat down. The room grew quiet. Everyone turned so they could look at him.

He held up his hands and said in a soft but confidant voice: "Blessings to you all! May God our Father shine His light upon you and give you peace!"

The men and women responded as with one voice: "Blessings to you also, Gabriel!"

Mike was slightly stunned by the religious reference, and began to wonder what he'd gotten himself into. He wasn't terribly religious to begin with, and wasn't sure he wanted to be. Sure, he believed in God, but who could not believe in a higher power of some sort when they just looked at the world around them? Flowers, trees, atmosphere, concrete, animals, human beings: These were all very complex things that didn't just come from nowhere. Still, despite believing in a God of some sort, Mike never really considered praying to Him, or anything, except when he and his colleagues were fighting a major blaze. Every fire fighter was religious when battling the Beast!

The man everyone had called "Gabriel," went on to make a few general announcements, lead an extended prayer session, and gave a few blessings before turning his attention Mike and the girl who'd invited him here.

"Serena, I understand you've brought a guest?" Gabriel said.

Serena beamed. "Yes, Gabriel! This is Michael. He's a fireman I met this morning while walking with Sarah, John, and Daisy. I invited him to join us, and he came!"

"Welcome, Michael!" Gabriel said, his smile huge. "Blessings to you."

"Blessings to you also, Gabriel," Mike replied without thinking. Saying the words startled him, but it felt good to say them at the same time.

Gabriel just smiled. "You are welcome here, Michael, and we hope you will one day join us."

"Thank you, Gabriel," Mike said, not knowing what else to say. He was still filled with questions, but decided to bide his time.

_The answers will come,_ the voice of reason told him. _Just be patient._

At the start of his next shift, Mike was hard pressed to keep the smile from his face. Not that he didn't want anyone to see him smile, he just didn't want to answer any intrusive questions that the perma-grin was sure to invoke. He hoped the fishing trip Johnny, Marco, and Chet had gone on would be the main topic of the day, and that he'd be pretty much left alone. Mike chuckled a bit thinking how just two short days ago, he was sad at the thought of his station mates ignoring him, and leaving him out of the fun.

Mike quickly finished dressing and headed into the kitchen for some coffee. Marco and Chet were already there sitting at the table, regaling Cap and Roy with their fish stories, but Johnny had yet to arrive. Mike quietly got himself a cup of coffee, and sat down at the table. He ignored the platter of donuts in the middle of the table, instead grabbing the front page of the newspaper. It slipped his notice that no one had greeted him.

"Good morning, everyone!" Johnny Gage's exuberant greeting preceded him into the kitchen.

The paramedic quickly grabbed one of the donuts off the platter in the center of the table and shoved it in his mouth as he went to get a cup of coffee. The other men returned his greeting, and Chet and Marco launched back into their argument over who caught the largest fish, eventually dragging Johnny into it. Mike ignored them all, staring at the newspaper without really reading it, and it wasn't until Captain Stanley clamped a hand on his shoulder that he looked up to find them all staring at him.

"Huh? What?" Mike asked, slightly confused.

"Come on, pal, we're ready for roll call," the captain said.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Mike said with a grin, and rose to follow the captain and the others out to the engine bay.

Mike's mind drifted the rest of the day, and a there were several times when someone would have to snap their fingers in front of his face or smack him on the arm to get his attention. His response was always the same: "Huh, what? Oh, sorry!"

His smile didn't go unnoticed for long and soon the inquiring minds wanted to know: What did you do on your days off? Who were you with? Where did you go? On and on it went. Mike did his best to be pleasant and polite, yet remained evasive, and eventually the men gave up trying to find out exactly what Mike had been up to. By the end of the afternoon, however, Captain Stanley had had enough of his engineer's daydreaming, and called him into his office.

"Look, Mike," the captain said. "I don't have any idea what's got you so distracted. It's obviously something, or someone, pretty special from that grin you've been wearing all day, and I'm happy for you, pal, I really am, but I really need for you to be _here_ one hundred per cent, right now. Do you understand, Mike?"

"Yeah, sure," Mike shrugged.

Captain Stanley didn't care for the engineer's flippant answer, and pressed on. "Now, Mike, I mean it! I need you _focused_! I need you to have your mind on your _job_! I can't have you spacing off and possibly making mistakes!"

The captain's remarks made Mike angry. "Cap, this is totally unfair! When I'm here, I do my job and I do it well! I always have and always will! So, I'm daydreaming a little today, big deal! The other guys mess around playing basketball or pulling pranks on each other, or squabbling about nonsense crap all day, and you never give them any grief! When my mental focus is _needed_, Captain, it'll be here!"

Captain Stanley was surprised and slightly annoyed by his usually quiet engineer's outburst, but instead of shouting back, he employed a new tactic.

"I understand, Mike, really I do. And, yes, I do let the others get away with a lot more crap around here, but there's a reason for that: Mike, you're the engineer. That means you've got a lot more responsibility than the rest of the guys. _You_ are my second in command! If something happens to me in the field, _you_ will be the one taking over the situation until another captain or battalion chief can relieve you. Now, maybe I never mentioned that to you before, and for that, I apologize. Maybe Captain Hammer didn't think of you in that manner, but _I_ do. I'm sorry; I should've made that more clear to you. But, now you know: You're my right-hand man, Mike, and I need you to be focused and ready for anything. Do you understand that?"

Mike thought a moment, digesting his captain's words. He never realized how highly the captain thought of him, how important his position really was, and pride welled up inside him before he could squelch it.

_No,_ he thought. _I mustn't be prideful! Gabriel said it's sinful to be too proud!_

He looked up to find Captain Stanley watching him intently. He smiled. "Yes, Cap, I understand that. Thank you for clearing that up for me."

"Sure thing, Mike," Stanley said. "Ah, that's all I had to say, so you can get back to work."

"Thanks, Cap!" Mike said with a grin, and rose to leave.

He wandered back to the engine, and began cleaning the gauges again, keenly aware of his captain's gaze on his back.

On his next day off, Mike returned to the old mansion without hesitation and was relieved to walk through the door. Serena and another girl Mike remembered as Sarah, embraced him in welcome, and he returned their hugs hard.

"Is everything okay, Michael?" Serena asked him, her voice squeaked as he squeezed her.

Mike sighed, and released his friends. "It was hard returning to work," he confessed. "All I could think about was how wonderful it was here. How nice everyone is, and how peaceful it is here. I got caught daydreaming yesterday, and got in trouble with my captain."

"Oh, Michael, that's terrible!" Serena said, taking him by the hand, and leading him into the sitting room.

"It's okay," he said with a shrug. "We talked it out, and came to an understanding. I just have to be more careful when I'm working."

Mike sat down on the same pillow he'd occupied the first time he was here, and removed his shoes and socks, setting them discretely behind him. There were a few other people around, who greeted him cheerfully, and Mike returned their greetings. Soon, he began to relax, and felt more at peace. People came and went, gentle conversations floated around Mike and Serena on a haze of patchouli incense, and Mike even dozed once or twice, jerking awake each time, and flushing with embarrassment. Serena and the others assured him there was no need for him to be distressed. They all understood that, as a fireman, Michael worked hard, and often missed the usual routines others enjoyed, such as getting a full night's sleep, or even finishing a meal.

Gabriel came into the room around six that evening, and held the prayer meeting and blessing. They shared a light meal of cooked vegetables and rice, and prayed and were blessed by Gabriel some more, before retiring for the evening - Gabriel disappearing upstairs, and everyone else getting as comfortable on the over stuffed pillows as they could. The next day went about the same, and the day after that, Mike returned to his job and the curiosity of his crew mates and captain.

The more time Mike spent with the group, the more he learned about what they believed in, and what their purpose was. Gabriel, their leader, spoke the Word of God, the same God in the Bible Mike's mother always read. The same God who resided in the church his mother took him to every Sunday growing up. The same God Mike prayed to whenever he and his fellow fire fighters battled a major blaze. The same God, and yet _this_ God was somehow different, according to Gabriel.

Rather than have a flock consisting of all of mankind, God, according to Gabriel, had only a small, select group of people with whom He would one day share all the glory of Heaven. This message at first confused Mike, who was raised to believe all those who believed and worshipped God would go to Heaven. Those who defied God went to Hell. Now here came Gabriel saying that God had called upon him to gather together this small, intimate group of what Gabriel called "Lost Sheep", and when all were gathered together, God would come to take them to Heaven, leaving everyone else to fend for themselves.

Mike pondered long and hard on that concept, and asked direct questions to Gabriel, only to receive perfectly reasonable answers. Gabriel told Michael that one night, as he lay asleep, God appeared to him, and woke him. God told him about His new plan, and how Gabriel was selected above all others to implement the plan. Gabriel said it was like when God told Noah to build the ark and save whatever animals and people he could before the Great Flood, or when the angel came and told Mary she would have His son. Mike remembered these stories from attending Sunday School as a child, but had always had doubts about the validity of them. He was afraid he would be thrown out of the Group when he voiced aloud his doubts of Gabriel's story, but Gabriel only smiled, and called him forward. Mike approached Gabriel, and the man held out his hands, palms up and open. Mike gasped at what he saw, having never noticed Gabriel's hands before. In the middle of each palm was a medium sized puncture wound, a stigmata, an injury similar to that inflicted on God's son, Christ, when he was crucified on the cross. Mike looked up into Gabriel's calm, loving eyes, and was amazed. Was this? Could it be? Mike didn't even dare dream it.

"My son," Gabriel said, his voice hushed, speaking only to Mike. "God made me His New Son! He told me to seek out and find all those I deem worthy to live for all eternity in Heaven. I sought out the lost, the lonely, the destitute; those whom society has neglected. You, Michael, I chose you among so many others, to join us! Just as I chose Serena, Sarah, David, Mary," Gabriel paused, and pulled back, spreading him arms out to include all the people in the room. "I chose you all to take this journey with me. This journey to my Father's paradise!"

Mike sat back amazed. He had been chosen by the New Son of God to go to Heaven! It was almost more than Mike could take. He had been chosen. He was accepted. He was loved.

Gabriel was blessing the Group now, and Mike went back to his usual spot. After prayers were said, Gabriel moved through the room, placing his hand on the head of each person, blessing them in God's name. When Gabriel touched Mike's head, Mike felt what he thought was as jolt of electricity shoot through him. He looked up at Gabriel, who looked down on him and smiled. The soft, smoky candle light hovered around Gabriel's head like a halo, and for the first time in his life, Mike truly felt the presence of God.

A month passed, and Mike became less and less interested in his job as an engineer, and more and more interested in spending time with The Lost Sheep, as Gabriel had come to call his small flock of followers. These people accepted him for who he was, always made him feel welcome, and Mike quickly considered them family. He felt closer to then than to his own family, even closer to them than the men he lived and worked with for twenty-four hours at a time. Men who were supposed to be his brothers. At work, Mike found himself sneaking away to be alone in the dorm where he repeated the prayers and blessings taught by Gabriel. The first time he did it, he had to laugh at himself, remembering it was not that long ago when being alone was the one thing Mike despised. But, he knew now he was never truly alone: Gabriel and the others were always with him in spirit, and Mike was certain God was looking out for him as well.

When Mike was on duty, he wore his uniform proudly like every other fire fighter, and when he left after his shift, he left in jeans and tee-shirts just like all the other guys. However, as soon as he reached the mansion, Mike changed into his own flowing white tunic tied at the waist with a piece of rough hemp rope. The loose, light fabric of his linen-cotton blend tunic was so comfortable, so freeing. He loved the feel of the breeze as it penetrated the fabric and touched his bare flesh. He loved the different textures of the dirt and the grass on his bare feet when he ventured outside. The sun seemed brighter, the sky seemed bluer, and the world seemed a much better place when he was here.

There was so much love around the house that Mike felt safe and secure. More so than he'd ever felt in his whole life. He felt now the serenity that he'd seen and envied on Serena's face the first day she approached him at the fire station. The emotions welling up inside him were almost overwhelming.

One day, as Mike was helping Serena and Sarah clean up the ash from the burned incense and replace the used candles, he thought about that sad, lonely man Mike Stoker had been, and without knowing why, suddenly fell to his knees and wept for him. Serena came and held him as he cried, and Sarah went to get the others. Gabriel came and knelt beside him to pray while the others joined hands in a circle, and joined Gabriel in his prayers of joy and thanks. Once his tears were dry, Mike emerged a new man. No longer was he Mike Stoker: Fire fighter Specialist. He was Michael: a lost sheep of God.

The morning following his breakthrough, Michael stepped out onto the sagging porch in his tee-shirt and jeans, and sighed. The clothing felt tight and suffocating on him. He wanted to take them off, and put on his tunic. He wanted to kick off his shoes and socks and feel the rough wood of the porch beneath them. He did not want to return to work. He did not want to return to his job as the engineer on Station 51's A-shift. He wanted to help weed the garden with Sarah today, to feel the sun on his back, and the cool earth beneath his feet. He did not want to be with _those_ people. He wanted to be with _these_ people. With his family. Turning, Michael saw Serena still standing in the doorway. She regarded him a moment, then extended her hand to him. Without a word, Michael reached out to her, took her hand, and let her lead him back inside.

Later that day, Mike inquired about staying on in the house permanently, and though overjoyed with his decision, Gabriel sat the young man down to talk seriously to him.

"I knew when I chose you, Michael, that you would one day join us," Gabriel said. "However, in order for you to join us fully, you must complete one final test: you must return to the world of man for a brief time, to be certain you are right for us. You must go back in order to leave your old life behind completely. You must leave your job, your family, your friends. You must face them as you do this, to be sure this is right for you. All your material possessions you must leave behind. If you can willingly live in their world, then return to ours, you may stay."

Michael was excited and afraid at the same time. Was he strong enough to return to his job, his co-workers? Would he be able to just pick up where he left off? Could he live outside the group?

"The test is not so long, Michael," Gabriel said gently, seeing the doubt and fear play out in Michael's eyes. "And when you return to us, you will be stronger! You will be one of us, a part of us! The time is coming soon, Michael. God has told me it will be soon! You must hurry and complete your test, so that you can return to us and join us as we bathe in God's glory and rejoice in his Rapture!"

Michael's eyes widened. He had no idea the end was coming so soon! "How much time to I have to complete the test, Gabriel?" he asked.

"You have one week, Michael, to dispose of your material possessions, and leave behind your job and family and friends. At the end of that week, you can return to us, and be one with us!"

Michael nodded, accepted Gabriel's blessing with extreme joy, and quickly left to complete his task.

"You're _what_!" Captain Stanley shouted.

"I'm quitting, Captain Stanley. I'm leaving the department," Mike Stoker said calmly.

"You're _what_!" Captain Stanley couldn't help but shout the question again. He simply could not believe one of the most promising firemen he'd ever met was just about to throw it all away.

"No, Mike, I can't let you! I _won't_ let you!"

"You don't have a choice, Captain," Michael said, gritting his teeth to remain calm as Gabriel had taught him. "I have the right to quit if I want to."

"But you _love_ being a fireman, Mike! You're damn_ good_ at it! You're an am_az_ing engineer! You handle that rig with a controlled grace I've never _seen_ before, let alone managed to accomplish myself!"

Michael squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists. This had been a long and difficult week for the young man. He had walked away from the mansion, and returned to the world he'd hoped he'd left behind before, in order to complete his final test before returning home to his new family.

"Look, I'm sorry, Cap, but I'm finished! It's just not for me anymore!"

"So, what is?"

Michael frowned, and furrowed his forehead. Dare he tell his captain about the Lost Sheep? Gabriel said people outside the group wouldn't understand. They would be resistant to the idea, and try to prevent him from joining them. Michael always trusted his captain, and felt a twinge of guilt at disappointing the man. Would he understand? Could he?

In the end, Michael said nothing more. He simply handed in his resignation, and the next morning, when his final shift ended, Michael walked away from Station 51 without looking back. He'd broken his lease with his landlady the day before. It had cost him a pretty penny, but Michael knew he wouldn't need money anymore anyway. _God will provide,_ Gabriel always said, and somehow, He always did. Michael also didn't heed any of his possessions, and had boxed up everything he could, to give to the Salvation Army, except for a few things he thought the guys at the station might like:

To Marco, he'd given his collection of his mother's and grandmother's recipes. Although Michael figured some of the other guys could use more help in the kitchen, he knew Marco's natural talent would only enhance what had been some of his favourite dishes growing up.

He gave Johnny his coffee table book of Ansel Adams photographs. The book had belonged to his late aunt, Janet Wilkes, who had once met the famous photographer, and was signed by Adams himself. Inside, on the title sheet, the message, _To Wilkes, with gratitude, Ansel Adams_, was scrawled. Mike never learned the meaning behind the sentiment, but had always enjoyed the book. He knew Johnny had recently started taking pictures on his camping trips into the mountains, and Michael hoped Johnny would find inspiration in Adams' work.

He didn't really have anything he thought Chet would appreciate, so he just gave Chet is pick-up truck. Chet's old car was not long for this world anyway, Michael knew, and he knew the man would need reliable transportation soon.

Michael had given Roy an envelope, but didn't say what was inside. It was sealed, and Michael asked that he not open it until they were off shift. Preferably, he should wait until he was home with his wife, Joanne.

"It's something for your family," was all he said, smiling in a way that made Roy slightly uncomfortable.

Finally to his captain, Michael gave his grandfather's gold pocket watch. It had meant a lot to him growing up, and he wanted it to go to someone who was very special to him.

"I know you're no where near old enough for a gold watch, cap," Michael joked. "but I know you'll appreciate this piece."

Hank had finally accepted the gift after saying no several times. It was a lovely watch, and was obviously very important to Mike. Hank hoped that one day, Mike would come to his senses and return to them, to the job Hank knew he loved, despite what the young man said now. Hank looked forward to returning the watch to its rightful owner.

At the end of their shift the next morning, the guys all stood outside and watched in disbelief as Michael James Stoker walked away from Station 51, and his promising career in the Los Angeles County Fire Department. The now-former engineer had changed into a long, flowing white tunic with a rough hemp belt tied around his waist, and leather sandals, leaving his uniform and street clothes in separate bags in his locker, indicating they could deal with the items however they wished.

After they watched him disappear, the five men went in to he captain's office, ignoring the curious stares of B-shift's crew. The men were silent and contemplative for a few minutes, each fingering the items Michael had given them: Chet played with the keys to his "new" pick-up truck, and Marco scanned the recipe book, curiosity momentarily overriding his concern. Cap twisted the gold pocket watch by the chain above his desk, nearly becoming hypnotized by it's rhythmic motion, while John thumbed through the Ansel Adams book, clearly impressed by the amazing photographs inside, and Roy picked at the flap of the sealed envelope with a thumb nail.

Cap was the first to break the silence. "Well, Roy why don't you see what Mike gave you?"

"Yeah, Roy, we all know what Mike gave us," Johnny said, not taking his eyes off a particularly impressive picture.

Roy sighed and ripped the envelope open. He pulled out the enclosed piece of paper, and unfolded it. A second piece of paper, which had been tucked inside, fluttered to the floor. Johnny bent to pick it up as Roy read the letter aloud.

_"Dear Roy and Joanne, Please put this away for Chris' and Jenny's college educations. I know it's hard to put one child through school on a fireman's salary, and you've got two. I don't need the money anymore, so I want you to have it. Your friend, Mike._

"Oh, my God" Johnny exclaimed, holding up the second, smaller piece of paper, which turned out to be a cheque. "There's three thousand dollars, here!"

Exclamations of disbelief echoed around the room, and Roy's jaw dropped.

"I can't except this," Roy said.

"I don't know that you have a choice, Roy," Cap said, fingering the watch. "No more than any of us do."

The men fell silent again.

"We have to stop Mike!" Chet said finally.

"What are you talking about?" Marco asked.

"We have to stop him from killing himself," Chet exclaimed, then flinched at the shouts of disbelief hurled at him.

Stanley finally shut them up, then asked, "What are you talking about, Chet?"

Chet hung his head a sighed. When he spoke his voice was thick with emotion.

"Back in school, by best friend was Benny Ramerez," he began. "We'd been best friends for a long time. When we were freshmen in high school, Benny suddenly started acting strange. He got real quiet a lot, and didn't like to hang out with all us guys. Sometimes he'd be all dreamy like and none of us knew what to make of it. I tried to talk to him, but he'd only tell me about feeling sad and lost and not knowing what to do with his life. He was tired all the time and seemed to sleep a lot. I didn't know what to think. It was all weird to me; I was just 15. I didn't know anything. I thought he was sick or something, and tried to get him out into the sunshine and fresh air my mom always said was so good for a guy. It didn't work. He wouldn't go. He'd just whine and moan about stupid things till I couldn't take it anymore and leave.

"Then one day, Benny was really changed. He was all happy, euphoric, even, and was always smiling. One day, he came to school and started giving his stuff away - his brand new wristwatch, his father's Purple Heart, (his father died in the war). He gave me his drawings. Benny was a great artist, and his specialty was portraits. He could draw a picture of a person, and it really looked like that person! He was amazing! Some of the other guys called him a fa . . . well, called him names because he drew stuff instead of playing sports. It wasn't manly, you know. But, I liked them, I thought they were real good. So, he gave me all of them. I knew how much this stuff meant to Benny, even if no one else did, but I didn't know why he was giving away all his stuff. I didn't know why he was so happy all of a sudden. I just figured whatever had been bothering him had gotten resolved, or something. I was just happy to have my friend back.

"The day after he gave me his drawings, I came to school, and the principal came and talked to the teacher, then he took me to his office to talk to me. He told me my friend Benny had died during the night. He'd hung himself in the basement of his parent's house. He told me my best friend was dead. That he'd killed himself."

"Oh, man, Chet, I'm sorry!" Johnny said. He reached over with his hand and grasped Chet's shoulder, as the others echoed his sentiments.

"Thanks, guys," Chet said, sniffing and wiping his face with the back of his hand. "It was a really tough thing for me to get through, then, and now I see Mike doing all the same things Benny did just before he . . . died. Benny was really depressed at first, then suddenly really, really happy. He gave away stuff that meant _every_thing to him. Mike's always been so quiet, so I don't know if he was ever depressed or not, but he had that period of time where he was really happy, and then suddenly he up and quits his job, and gives away all his stuff, and walks away. What else can it be?"

A knock on the door interrupted any answer that would have come forth, had anyone had an answer, and B-shift's captain, Larry Friendly, poked his head in. "Hey, you fellas about done in here?" he asked. "I need to start getting to work, so my men don't think I'm slackin'!"

His attempt at humour falling flat, the captain frowned and asked, "What's up, Hank?"

"Oh, we were just discussing our engineer," Hank said. "He quit today."

"What?" Larry exclaimed, and stepped further into the room, leaning his hand on the doorknob. "Stoker quit! I don't believe it!"

Hank nodded glumly. "Believe it," he said. "Mike just came in here yesterday morning, and gave me notice, such as it was. He handed out a bunch of his things to all of us as farewell presents, and walked away just about an hour ago with nothing but the clothes on his back."

"Yeah, and that was just a long, white robe thing with a rope for a belt, and sandals!" Johnny said, still stunned by what had happened, and now shaken by Chet's story.

"What the hell?" Larry exclaimed.

"Frankly, Larry, we're really concerned. We're afraid he might . . ." Hank paused; not wanting to even consider the possibility that Mike might harm himself. Still, Mike's recent behaviour _did_ mirror that of Chet's childhood friend, Benny . . .

"We think he might hurt himself," Hank said, finally.

"Who might hurt himself?" Lex's booming voice burst it's way into the room. Captain Friendly was shoved the rest of the way into the office by the burley engineer's enthusiastic smack on the back. "What's Gage gotten himself into now?"

"It's not Gage they're worried about, Morgon," Larry said, glaring at his engineer. "It's Stoker."

"Stoker? What's the matter with Stoker?"

"He quit," Hank informed the man.

"What? Are you kidding me? Stoker quit?"

"Yeah, he just quit his job, gave away all his things, and walked away with barely even any clothes on."

"Well, I'll be God damned!" Lex exclaimed. "I'd never expected that kind of thing from Stoker!"

"Neither did we," Hank said. "His actions are leading us to believe he might harm himself."

"You think Stoker's gonna off himself?" Lex nearly busted up laughing. "No way, man, no way!"

"What makes you think otherwise, Morgon?"

"Man, that guy was just too happy and too _busy_! Every time I'd get in, I'd ask him what he was doing on his days off, and he always said he was gonna hang out with his friends. He'd be so anxious to get outta here, you'd think he was gonna _burst_! I actually started coming in a bit late, just to aggravate him."

Captain Friendly glared at his engineer, who had the good sense to grimace a bit at revealing his indiscretion.

"Friends?" Chet asked. "What friends? Mike never mentioned any friends to us!"

Lex shrugged. "I dunno, he never said. Just said he was going to see his friends, or was gonna hang out with 'em, or somethin'. I didn't dig too deep, I just let him sweat it out a few minutes more than usual here, then I just let him go. You shoulda _seen_ him some days! He'd be practically pacing a _ditch_ in the floor!" The big man laughed again, despite the worried, concerned, anxious, and now stunned looks on the faces around him.

Captain Stanley had been quiet for some time, listening to the conversation going on around him. His mind was racing with everything that was being said, and everything that had happened the day before. He probed deeper into his memory, back to the past few weeks, to see if anything came to mind that might explain Mike's behaviour, and what he was up to now. He remembered Mike being distracted and dreamy a few weeks back, and having a talk with him. Others noticed it, too, and Roy even suggested Mike might be in love. Mike had accepted the subsequent teasing good-naturedly, but never gave details, and eventually started to drift away from the group. Oh, sure he was always there when needed during drills and fires and whatnot, but when the chores were done, the drills were run, the meals were cooked, consumed, and cleaned up after, while the other men played cards or basketball, or watched television, Mike would go off by himself. Eventually, Hank would find him either in the dorm, or out in the back parking lot, where he would be staring off into the distance. There _had_ been something different about Mike, but Hank had just shrugged it off as being in love, as Roy had suggested. It never occurred to him that it could be something else.

Hank recalled now reading about extreme religious groups who sucked unsuspecting people into their organizations, taking them away from their family and friends. Hank wondered if Mike might have gotten caught up in one of those groups. He suddenly wondered if his engineer had joined a cult.

Two weeks after Mike Stoker walked away from Station 51, Johnny pulled into the parking lot of Murphy's Market grocery store after leaving the station at the end of his shift. He was exhausted, and just wanted to go home and collapse, but he knew he had little food in his apartment, and was certain the milk was expired. He went to grab a shopping cart, his mind a million miles away. No one had heard from, nor had anyone seen Mike since he left, and everyone was worried. Although Hank tried to convince them that Mike was very likely okay, he didn't go into why he thought that, and just tried to keep everyone busy at the station with drills, inspections, and extra chores. It didn't stop the men from speculating on Mike's fate, however: Chet was still certain Mike had jumped off a bridge or something, and Roy was just as certain Mike had run off to be with a girl. Both Marco and Johnny sided with Roy, simply because it was a better alternative to Chet's, and the Captain had remained quiet, keeping whatever opinions he had to himself.

"Peace be with you, brother!"

"Huh?" Johnny jumped at the sound of a female voice behind him, his shopping cart clanking with it's neighbour. He turned to find a young girl dressed in a simple white tunic with a rope tied around the waist, flowers woven through her long, blonde hair, holding a flower out to him.

"Peace be with you, brother," she repeated.

"Uh," Johnny hesitated, then took the proffered flower from her slender fingers. "Thanks."

He blinked at her, but the girl said nothing more, and simply smiled at him, head tilted to one side. She was pretty enough, but there was something odd about her that made Johnny not really want to flirt with her. He looked beyond her and saw two other people - a young man and woman - dressed in the same manner, each handing out flowers to people as they entered or exited the grocery store, smiling and making proclamations of love and peace. He stared hard at one of them.

"Mike?" he said, uncertain. "_Mike_!"

Johnny brushed aside the girl who'd given him the flower, and went up to the young man.

"Mike?" he inquired, grabbing the man by the shoulders, and spinning him around to face him when he didn't respond. "Mike!"

John gaped: Mike Stoker stood before him, perfectly healthy, safe, and sound. "Oh, my _God_, Mike! Where have you _been_? We've been out of our _minds_! Cap is going _nuts_! Well, he doesn't say anything, but you know he is! And, Chet! Chet thinks you're _dead_!"

Johnny looked into the man's eyes, but they showed no sign of recognition. Then slowly, Mike Stoker seemed to emerge from a fog. A huge smile formed on his face. "John!"

"Yeah, Mike. Man, where have you been?"

"With my friends," Michael answered indicating the two girls.

"Well, yeah, Mike, they're pretty and all, but . . ."

"Won't you join us, John?" Asked the girl who'd given him the flower.

"Join you?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah, John, it's great!" Michael said. "Everyone is so nice, and it's so peaceful and beautiful, and you're never alone. We're one big family!"

"Mike," Johnny spoke slowly and deliberately as though speaking to a five-year-old. "You _have_ a family, and they're getting pretty worried about you, not to mention your friends . . ."

"Friends?"

"Yeah, you remember: Me, Roy, Marco, Chet, Cap."

Michael frowned, and shook his head. "No, John, _these_ people are my friends. _They_ love me, _they_ accept me. They're always there for me. They've shown me the true way of God! I'm not alone anymore. I'll never be alone again, John."

"What are you talking about, Mike? You were never alone with us at the station. If we weren't out on a run, we were always hanging out together, playing cards, or basketball, or just watching TV. It's not like we could really get away from each other there; it's a pretty small station! And, we were always there for you. If you needed anything, we'd've helped ya out in a heartbeat, Mike, you know that!"

Michael shook his head again. "I was never really a part of you guys," he said sadly. "I never felt like I belonged there."

"Of course you belonged there, Mike, you're the engineer! You're a pivotal part of the crew!"

"No," Michael insisted. "I never belonged! I would try to fit in, but . . ."

Michael turned away as the familiar feelings of loneliness and emptiness returned. He remembered feeling left out of the jokes and camaraderie the others seemed to share so easily. He remembered never being invited to go fishing or bowling. The old sadness and despair returned and Michael suddenly needed to leave. He vaguely heard Johnny arguing with Serena.

"Look, he's my friend, and he's been missing for _days_! He just walked away from everything, and didn't say a _word_! We've been worried sick! What have you people_ done_ to him?"

"_Done_ to him? We've done nothing to him but love him and accept him! That's a lot more than you and your friends ever did!"

"What? That's crazy! You're crazy!" Johnny turned to Mike. "C'mon, man! Come with me. I'll take you home. You don't need these . . . these . . . flower freaks!"

Michael turned angrily on Johnny. "We are _not_ flower freaks! We love the earth is all, as God has taught us to! We love each other and everything God has provided us! We are one with God, and through our leader, Gabriel, He has chosen us! We don't judge each other or ignore each other. We're all equal and loved! That's the way God wants it!" He paused to take a deep, cleansing breath then motioned to the two girls. "Come on, Serena, Sarah. Let's go. I don't think we can help this man."

Johnny panicked as he saw his friend disappearing into thin air again. He had to stop Mike! Had to talk to him again. He was talking crazy, and Johnny had a very bad feeling about all this. At the very least, he had to find out where Mike was living, then he could call Cap and the rest of the guys, and together they could figure out how to help Mike. Taking a deep breath, Johnny called out to the retreating figure of his friend: "Mike! I'm sorry! Please don't go!"

Michael and the girls stopped.

"Please, Mike, I've just been so worried about you. You just left without a word! You just quit your job, and disappeared into thin air! We're so afraid something happened to you."

Michael turned back to Johnny, who took a couple hesitant steps towards his friend, as John continued.

"Mike, I'm happy you've found some great new friends, really I am! I've just been worried about you, and to find you just standing here handing out flowers to people, I . . . well, I guess I just lost my head! You know how I can be!"

Michael smiled, remembering Johnny's tendency to jump into a situation with both feet before getting all the facts. Johnny saw the smile, and, encouraged, continued: "Can you at least tell me where you're living?"

"No, John. I don't think I want you there . . ." Mike started, frowning. Then the girl he'd called Serena stopped him. She whispered something in his ear, and he blushed, bowing his head. After a moment, he turned back to John.

"I'm sorry, John. That was unkind of me. Of course, you can come visit us anytime. I would really like to share with you what I found with my new family and friends. It's so beautiful, John! There's so much love and peace and hope. God chose all of us! He's coming to take us home soon! If you hurry, you can come, too!"

"Yeah, Mike," Johnny said, outwardly calm even as a chill ran up his spine. "It sounds nice."

Michael smiled. "It is, John. It's beautiful!"

"I owe you an apology, too, John," Serena said. "I was wrong to shout at you. I know you're Michael's old friend, and you deserve our love for being his friend. I hope you can forgive me . . . forgive us, and I hope you will consider coming with us."

Johnny thought the whole conversation was becoming very creepy and strange, but decided to play along for Mike's sake. He gave Serena one of his famous heart-melting smiles and said, "Apology accepted! I'm sorry I overreacted. I was just so happy to see Mike . . . er, Michael, that I just lost my head. We've all been so worried since he left."

"Apology accepted," Serena said with a warm smile that left Johnny cold. "Peace be with you!"

"Peace be with you," Johnny answered, keeping up the charade.

Johnny regarded Mike and his odd friends once again. Mike did seem happy, happier than John ever remembered seeing him, but it was a strange kind-of happy. Not quite artificial, but still not entirely natural. At least Johnny didn't think so. He briefly wondered if Mike had gotten into drugs with these hippies, but quickly dismissed the idea. Mike knew better than that, Johnny was sure. Still, something about Mike's eyes didn't sit well with the paramedic.

"We have to be going now, John," Michael said. "Please feel free to stop by and visit us anytime. If you do, you'll see what I mean. You'll never want to leave!"

He handed John a piece of paper, the same kind of paper Serena had handed to him in front of the fire station all those months ago, then turned and left with the two girls. Johnny watched them go, and made no move to stop them. He glanced down at the paper with the address written on it, and dug in his pants pockets for change to use the phone.

An hour later, Johnny, Roy, Chet, and Marco were gathered at Captain Stanley's house. Mrs. Stanley poured them each a cup of coffee, and offered to make them some snacks, but they declined. Their stomachs were too clenched in anticipation of the news Johnny brought them to enjoy any of Mrs. Stanley's treats. Cap paced back and forth, wearing a trail in the thick shag carpeting just in front of the coffee table, and wringing his hands together. He'd been pacing ever since receiving Johnny's frantic phone call: "I found him, Cap! I found Mike!"

Hank had quickly called a meeting of the rest of the A-shift guys, with the exception of their temporary engineer, Gene Miller, who was working an overtime shift at 110s, and they were now gathered to hear Johnny's news, and figure out what to do next.

Finally, Cap went to sit on the sofa beside Roy. Chet, and Marco were on the love seat, and Johnny was in the small rocker by the fireplace.

"Okay, John," Hank said. "Tell us everything!"

"Okay, well, I was going into Murphy's Market, right? And there was this girl, this hippie, or something, and she said, 'Peace be with you, brother,' and gave me a flower. I didn't think anything of it, though it was kind-a weird, but then I see these two people behind her handing out flowers to other people, and one of them's Mike!" He paused while the news sank in.

"So then what happened?" Chet asked, visibly relieved to hear Mike was okay.

"So, then I go up to him and call his name, and at first he doesn't recognize me . . ."

"Whaddya mean he doesn't recognize you?" Chet exclaimed. "It hasn't been _that_ long since he was here!"

"Kelly, you twit, will you shut up and let John tell the story!" Captain Stanley growled. When he was certain Chet would be quiet, he urged John to continue.

"Well, in answer to your question, Chet, what I mean is, he just looked at me like he'd never seen me before. Like I was just another person to hand a flower to. Then, after a few seconds, he suddenly recognized me."

"Then what, John?" Cap asked.

"Then it gets kind-a weird," Johnny said. "He tells me how these people are his friends now, his family, and when I tell them he _has_ a family and _we_'re his friends, he gets mad and says we're not, that we never were. He says these people never ignore him or leave him alone, or something like that. I told him he was never alone with us, and that's when he said he never felt like he belonged with us. Never felt like he was part of the group. Isn't that weird?"

Chet agreed with Johnny, but Marco, Roy and Hank just hung their heads.

"No, it really doesn't sound that weird, if you think about it, Johnny," Roy said. "Mike was always kind-of quiet, and a bit of a loner, but I don't think any of us really tried to bring him out. We never really made an effort to include him in many things. As far as I know, none of us ever hung out with him after work, like we did with each other. I can see now where he'd feel a little left out."

"Well, I can understand that, too, Roy, but to join a cult!" Captain Stanley exclaimed.

"A _cult_!" Chet and Marco cried at the same time.

"Do you really think Mike's joined a cult, Cap?" Marco asked.

"I don't know for sure, Marco, but it sure sounds like it. I suspected it after what Lex told us the day Mike left, but I wasn't sure enough to say anything. I've read about these things. These groups target people who seem lost and lonely, people who are searching for a purpose in their lives. They convince them that they are their only friends, and only the group can fulfill their needs. They convince people their own family and friends don't care about them. Only the members of the group care. For someone who's vulnerable, they can be quite convincing and very powerful."

The men sat silently, digesting the Captain's words, each man feeling guilty for whatever part he had to play in this mess.

"For whatever reason, Mike didn't feel like he belonged with us. His family is hours away in Fresno, so he never gets to see them, and I don't know if he has any friends in LA outside the station," Hank finished.

"Man, I can't believe this! I can't believe we just ignored him like that? What kind of friends are we?" Johnny asked.

"We?" Chet asked incredulously. "Don't count me in with you, Gage! I was a good friend to Mike! I hung out with him all the time at the station!"

"I hung out with him, too, Chet," Johnny countered. "We played basketball together all the time!"

"Oh, Johnny, that's not true! You guys only played basketball with Mike to see who cleaned up the dinner dishes!" Marco stated, angrily.

"Guys! _Guys!_" Captain Stanley shouted to get their attention. "Look, there's no use laying blame now. I think perhaps we _all_ share a little responsibility in this, and that includes Mike, himself. Now, what we have to do is get Mike outta there, and get him back to his _real_ family, his friends, and his job."

"But, how do we do that, Cap?" Chet asked.

"I've heard of this thing called an 'Intervention,' where a person who's joined a cult is, for lack of a better term, abducted, by their family or friends, and taken to a professional, and deprogrammed."

"Abducted? Deprogrammed? God, Cap, what are we talking about, here!" Marco said, dismayed.

"We're talking about the fact that Mike's possibly been brainwashed into believing whatever malarkey the leader of this group is spouting. From what John's told us, Mike obviously believes we're no longer his friends, and he doesn't want anything to do with us."

"Forgive me for playing Devil's advocate here, Cap, guys," Roy interjected quietly. "But, do we really have the right to interfere in Mike's life like this? I mean, if he's happy with these people, and they're all just a bunch of harmless hippies handing out flowers, and talking peace and love, how can we take him away from that, and thrust him back into a life where he was apparently so miserable?"

Cap raised his hand against the waves of protest rising from Johnny and Chet, "Now, wait! Roy has a valid point we need to consider."

"A valid point?" Echoed Johnny.

"But, Cap . . ." Chet protested.

"But, nothing! We need to discuss this! Now, go ahead, Roy."

"Well, all I mean is, what's the harm in these people?"

"That's a good question, Roy, and one we need to look into. These people might just be peace and love hippies, and if that's the case, maybe Mike _is_ better off with them than with us," Cap said.

"I can't believe you'd think Mike would be better off with in a cult with those flower freaks than in the fire department with us!" Chet grumbled.

Hank glared at him, but did not respond directly to his comments. "What we need to do is find out what these people are all about. What is their agenda? What is their purpose, their common goal? John, what more can you tell us about your encounter with Mike and these other two people?"

"Well, they were real nice . . . uh, I don't really know how to explain it. They were unusually happy and . . . I guess 'serene' would be the best way to describe them. I did argue with both Mike and one of the girls, but later, they both apologized to me, saying their behaviour was not proper, and as Mike's old friend I deserved their love. Before he left, Mike invited me to visit, and gave me this paper with an address on it."

"That's it, then," Hank said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them briskly. "Johnny, how would you feel about stopping by there on your next day off?"

Johnny shrugged. "I wouldn't mind. I guess I could find out what's going on there."

"But what if Johnny gets sucked into the cult, too?" Marco asked, concerned.

"I don't think that will happen," Hank said. "From what Johnny's told us, I believe this group zeros in on people who seem lonely or lost, people who don't have many friends, and who don't have a very high opinion of themselves. They play on those emotions, and that's how they suck people in. Johnny is a pretty gregarious person, he's very self-confident, and has lots of friends. I don't think he'll be vulnerable to their draw. He does, however, have a way in, and I think he's the one who can find out if Mike's in any danger there, or not. Whaddya say, John? Are you up to it?"

Johnny pondered the Captain's request a moment, keenly aware of all eyes on him. On the one hand, this could be their one chance to find out if Mike was in any real danger or not. Was this group really a cult, or just a bunch of harmless flower freaks? On the other, if this _was_ a real cult, was he really strong enough to fight their influence? Could he, in the end, walk away from it _and_ bring Mike back with him?

Johnny looked at the men around him, men he'd only known a couple years, but who had become a very important part of his life. Chet and Marco were both good men, although Chet's practical jokes could be trying at times. His partner, Roy, he'd come to think of as a real brother, not just in the fire fighting sense, but like they were blood related. Roy had taken Johnny into his home, made him a part of his family, and Johnny felt honoured by that. And, Captain Stanley, this new captain who'd only been with the crew about a year, was an honest, fair man who expected great things from his men, and knew how to inspire his men to accomplish those great things. He loved and trusted these men to the ends of the earth.

He also loved his family, though they were far away, and his other friends outside the department were an important part of his life as well. Just as important was his career as a fire fighter and paramedic. The former had been more than enough to satisfy him, but when the paramedic program came along, and he found he could help people even more, it was like he'd found nirvana! He could not imagine anything being better than the life he had right now.

Johnny made his decision and turned to Captain Stanley. "I'll do it, Cap," he said. "I'll go visit Mike."

Johnny pulled his Rover up to the curb in front of a run-down old mansion, and eyed the structure warily. He checked the address again on the paper he held in his hand, and shook his head.

_I can't believe Mike would willingly walk into a tinderbox like that!_ He thought. _That place could go up in seconds, and the people inside wouldn't stand a chance!"_ He shuddered. _Man, Mike must've been really desperate to join these people. Well, it's now or never._

Johnny exited the Rover, and headed up to the mansion. Before he even had the chance to knock on the door, it was pulled open, and Michael's beaming face greeted him.

"John! I'm overjoyed that you decided to join us!"

"Well, now, I just came for a visit, Mike," Johnny said, hesitantly. "I just came to visit you. I'm not actually joining anything."

"Oh, I know, I know, John," Michael said. "Please, come in. Come and meet everyone!"

Michael gently grabbed Johnny's arm and dragged him into the house. Johnny noticed Serena and the other girl from the grocery store - what was her name? - sitting on the second step up of the stair case, talking. Upon seeing him, both girls rose to greet him.

"John, I'm so glad you decided to join us," Serena said, and the other girl echoed her sentiments.

Before Johnny could protest, the trio had guided him into a room filled with large, overstuffed pillows on the floor and a few pieces of old furniture. Candles and incense burned throughout the room, and Johnny wondered how they kept the place from burning to the ground. Michael guided Johnny to one of the empty pillows, then sat down on the one beside him There were only a few people in the room - all of whom greeted Johnny kindly. He returned their greetings, and suddenly understood why Mike wanted to stay: It _was_ nice here, the people were friendly, and it was peaceful, relaxing and calm. Johnny felt himself relaxing just a bit too much, and mentally shook himself to focus on his goal: To find out what these people were up to, and if Mike was in any real danger or not.

"So, John, what do you think?" Michael asked him.

"Well, Mike, it's nice! Real nice!" Johnny looked around the room again. He noticed a thin, floaty curtain fluttering very near a burning candle and found himself unable to pull his gaze from it. "Ah, everyone seems real friendly."

"Yes, it's wonderful here! So much better than out there."

John forced himself to look at Mike. "Whaddya mean, Mike? What was so bad about 'out there'?"

Mike's smile faded, and his head hung. "This is really hard for me to say, John, but when I told Gabriel about our encounter the other day, he said when I got the chance, I should tell you how I feel."

"Well, I'm here, now. Go ahead, Mike."

"John, I really liked all you guys at the station. You all seemed like real nice guys. You were always doing stuff, hanging out, pulling jokes on each other. You really seemed to be having a good time."

Johnny bit his tongue to silence his retort.

"But, you never really included me in the fun. Oh, sure, sometimes I'd get in on it, like when you needed a fifth guy to play poker, and Cap would have to go in his office and pretend nothing was happening, because gambling is really against regulations, or when we would shoot baskets to see who did the washing up, but other than that, you never really went out of your way to include me in anything."

Johnny thought back over the past couple years they'd all been at the new Station 51. Thought about all the games they'd played, all the comradery they shared. He tried to picture Mike in those thoughts, but came up a bit short. Mike was always in the background, it seemed, just out of the picture. There, but not quite there.

"John, I'm not mad at _you_," Michael continued. "I'm not mad at anyone. It's just the way it was, and Gabriel has helped me see that I just didn't belong with a group of such outgoing people. I'm too quiet, too introverted. I wanted to belong; yet I didn't fit . . ."

"That's not true, Mike! You fit!" John interrupted.

Michael shook his head. "No, John, I didn't. Not really. Sure when we're working, I'm part of the team, but afterwards, I'm really not. I mean, I know you guys often hung out together after work. You and Roy would be at his place doing home repairs, or whatever. You and Chet and Marco going fishing together, bowling, or just going out for a beer . . ."

"Mike, you could've always come with us!" Johnny protested. "You were always welcome!"

"But I was never in_vit_ed!" Mike countered. "You never _asked_ me to go anywhere or do anything with you!"

"Geeze, Mike, whaddya want, a written invitation?" Johnny said, angrily. He knew getting mad was counter productive, but what he was hearing irked him. Did Mike really think he couldn't just tag along with them? Did they do something to make him think we was unwelcome?

"No, John, it's not that," Michael insisted. "It wasn't just you guys, it was me, too. I guess I could've asked, but I was raised to not invite myself to other people's functions. If I'm invited, sure I can go, but if I just wanted to go, I shouldn't just insinuate myself on people."

"Insinuate . . . what the heck, Mike?" Johnny could not believe what he was hearing. "Mike, you're not insinuating yourself by asking to join us! All you have to do is say, 'Hey, is there room for one more?' If there is, great, you're in. If not, well, maybe we can work something out for some other time. It's no big deal, Mike."

"Well, that's easy for you to say, John," Mike said. "You have tons of friends! You're dating all the time . . ."

"Now, wait just a minute, Mike," John said. "I do not have _tons_ of friends. I have a few friends, most of whom I've met through the fire department! Some of my older friends from school, I keep in touch with, but they live too far away to see on a regular basis! As for dating, sure I get a date here or there, but you know, Mike, nine times out of ten, I'm going home alone to my apartment after work. I'm hanging out by myself, doing laundry and watching TV, drinking a beer and eating a TV dinner! I go fishing and camping by myself more often than I go with Marco or Chet, or even Roy for that matter! But, I don't really mind. I don't mind my own company sometimes."

"I don't mind my own company sometimes, either, John, but it seemed like I was spending an awful lot of time in my own company, and it was getting a little boring!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Mike! Whaddya want me to do about it? You wanna go bowling next Thursday, fine, we'll go bowling!"

"John, I don't want you to feel obligated . . ."

"Obligated! I wouldn't feel obligated! Mike, I'd love to hang out with you sometime! God knows you'd be better company than Chet! I still can't figure out why I hang out with him after all the cupcakes he's put in my helmet and the water bombs he's dropped on me, but I do. I like all the guys I work with. They're my family! _You're_ my family, Mike, and we're _your_ family!"

"NO! _These_ people are my family, now! They love me! They accept me!"

By now, both men were on their feet, faces inches away from each other, yelling. Sarah and Serena fled to get Gabriel, fearing the two would come to blows, and disrupt the once-peaceful atmosphere.

"Michael! What is the meaning of this?"

Michael froze, and both he and John turned to find Gabriel standing in the doorway to the room looking uncharacteristically angry; Sarah and Serena hovering behind him.

"I'm sorry, Gabriel," Michael stammered. "I was just talking to my friend John, and . . and . . ."

Gabriel moved into the room slowly, taking his time in getting to Michael.

"And what?" he asked in a slow, deliberate voice.

"And, we got a little loud. I apologize."

"A _little_ loud, Michael?" Gabriel walked behind the two men. Johnny resisted the urge to put his two cents in, and merely observed Mike's reaction to this man, who Johnny realized must be the group's leader.

"I think you were both more than a _little_ loud."

"Yes, we were. I'm sorry Gabriel!"

John could tell Mike was trembling beside him. What was he afraid of?

Gabriel made his way around the two men, and now stood before them. He looked John up and down in a manner Johnny found insulting, but he held his tongue. This is what he'd come for, after all. This is where he'd find out what kind of group this is. By the look the man was giving him, and Mike's reaction to Gabriel, John had a feeling he wasn't going to like what he discovered.

Johnny crept through the house silently, listening to the various creaks and moans of the old tinderbox mansion, and the soft sounds of sleep coming from its occupants. It had been several weeks since Johnny first came to the mansion to visit Mike, and find out what the former engineer had gotten himself into. Johnny's volatile temper nearly got him kicked out of the house that first day, but he managed to recover, and calm himself down. Bringing forth tears by recalling a couple painful childhood memories, Johnny was able to get the sympathy of the group, and its leader, Gabriel. He begged their forgivness for his outburst, and was not only forgiven and blessed, but was allowed to stay, and even invited to join them. Johnny accepted, and moved into the house, and worked closely with the members of the group. He continued to play on the emotions of the odd group, all the while gathering information he could take back to his captain. He was unsure whether Gabriel was on to him or not, but the man allowed him to stay, and answered all his questions without hesitation.

Johnny learned that Gabriel believed himself to be the new son of God, and had puncture wounds in the palms of his hands to prove it. The paramedic winced at seeing the so-called stigmata, and was secretly impressed that they appeared to be uninfected, as he didn't for a moment believe they'd happened by the will of God, but believed they'd been self-inflicted. Gabriel told Johnny about his various conversations with God, and how God chose him to gather together the lost and lonely.

"You see, John," Gabriel said. "God wants only the very best people to be in Heaven with him. Those who are lonely, neglected, who feel worthless; God weeps to see them in such pain. He chose me to gather these people together, and when we have twenty-one people, God will come down and take us all home!"

Chills ran up Johnny's spine as the implication of Gabriel's words hit him. "Home?"

"To Heaven, John," Gabriel replied.

Johnny swallowed hard as the implication of the man's words hit him, but he tried to look excited.

"Home," he said as wistfully as possible. "I would like to go home!"

Gabriel reached over and touched Johnny's hands, the rough, scabbed skin around the wounds brushed roughly over the smooth skin on the back of Johnny's hand, making the bile rise in the young man's throat.

"And, you will, my son," Gabriel said. "Very soon, you will."

The following day, Johnny joined Sarah, Serena, and Mike as they handed out flowers to people in front of the Zippy Mart, and wished them all peace and love. Gabriel said God insisted they continue to share His message of love and peace even with those who had ignored and neglected Him. The first chance he got, Johnny snuck off to a payphone and called Captain Stanley to tell him what was going on.

"You were right, Cap, it's a cult," Johnny said, speaking quickly, and keeping an eye on his companions. "This guy thinks he's the Son of God, and that God told him to gather up a bunch of lonely people, tell them they're loved and wanted, and convince them to give up everything to join them. He said God will be taking us all, quote unquote, _home_ when there's twenty-one members in the group."

"How many are there, now?" Cap asked, concerned.

"Well, there's twenty-one if you count me, Cap, but I don't think I'm officially in, yet."

Cap rubbed his temples, realizing time was short. "Okay, John," he said. "just keep doing what you're doing. I've taken care of leaves of absence for both you and Mike, so don't worry about your job, okay, pal? Just keep working on getting Mike outta there! And, make it fast, John!"

Johnny had done just that. Every chance he got, Johnny would try to get Mike alone to talk to him. He asked him if he missed the fire department, the guys at the station, or the engine, of which he'd once been so fond. Each time Mike insisted he was happier with the group, and that they would be going home soon, and wasn't that exciting and wonderful, and Johnny's hopes that Mike would regain his senses sank.

Now, Johnny climbed the stairs to the third floor - the forbidden floor - without making a sound. The third floor was where Gabriel went to have his conversations with God, and it was forbidden for anyone else to go up there. No one knew why, and no one asked why. Everyone in the group simply accepted Gabriel's odd orders like the lost sheep they were. As he reached the top, Johnny saw light coming from beneath the door on the last room at the end of the hall. Silently, he moved towards it, soon heard hushed voices coming from behind the door. He got as close as he dared, and leaned in, listening.

"We are now at twenty-one in our group of Lost Sheep, Father," said a voice that Johnny immediately recognized as Gabriel's. "We have enough to make the trip to Heaven!"

"I am unsure about the one named John," replied a second voice Johnny didn't recognize. A chill went up his spine as he realized the voice was talking about him.

"John?" Gabriel asked. "The man Michael brought home?"

"Yes," the voice answered.

Gabriel sighed. "He _is_ disruptive and argumentative, I know, Father, but he's had a painful life, and we need one more. . . "

"No!" The voice interrupted. "John shall not undergo the final test. He shall not be joining you on the journey to Heaven. Twenty people shall be enough, Gabriel. We have plenty to make the trip. We do not need him."

"As you wish, Father. I shall ask him to leave in the morning."

"Very well. The time is coming soon, Gabriel. When you least expect it, I shall be ready to return to Heaven, and take you all with ME. You must be sure everything is ready."

"Yes, Father."

"That is all for now, Gabriel. Go and sleep."

"Yes, Father. Thank you, Father."

Johnny moved quickly and quietly away from the door. He ducked inside another room, as Gabriel emerged and made his way down the stairs. When it was quiet for several minutes, John stepped out into the hallway. The light at the end of the hall was out, now. Johnny stared at the dark line illuminated now by the full moon outside the window at the end of the hall. He wasn't sure why, but a line from _The Wizard of Oz_ suddenly came to him: _"Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain . . ."_.

Johnny stood and thought a moment, then made his decision. If he was being tossed out of the house tomorrow, he was at least going to confront the person responsible for his leaving, tonight. He was at least going to get some _real_ answers about this group, and find out exactly what was meant by "going to Heaven." Johnny _thought_ he knew what it meant, but he had to be sure. If was what he suspected - that they were all going to die - he'd just grab Mike and leave tonight.

_Hell, I might just do that anyway,_ he thought. _But, first I'm going to give this God person a piece of my mind!_

Johnny approached the door, no longer caring about making noise or not, and gave the door three quick raps. He could see a light suddenly flicker through the crack beneath the door.

"Was there something else, Gabriel?" the voice beyond the door inquired. Johnny took that as an invitation to enter the room, and did so. "It's not Gabriel," he announced. "It's me, John. Johnny Gage."

Johnny started momentarily as his eyes adjusted to the light of the hurricane lamp sitting on the night stand beside a large, comfortable looking bed, and let the opulent splendor of the room sink in. It was elaborately furnished with perfectly applied wallpaper, a soft shag rug, and furnishings befitting a king. The large bed in the centre of the room was piled high with what looked like to Johnny to be very expensive linens, and the room also boasted a phone and small television set. Everything the rest of the house was not, this one room was. Suddenly, it occurred to Johnny that the movie line he'd been thinking about in the hallway, was not so far off. Here he was standing before the man behind the curtain. A man who had convinced another man that he was God, and told him to gather together a group of innocent people for the purpose of controlling their minds, and getting them to do his bidding.

"What are you doing in here?" the man demanded from the middle of the large bed. "You are not authorized to enter here!"

Johnny ignored the man, and made his way around the room, his anger building.

"Who the hell to you think you are?" he asked. "Who are you to tell me where I can and can't go? Who are you to tell these people what to do? Who do you think you are? God?"

"I _AM_ GOD!" the man responded, sitting up on his knees in the bed.

He was a good-sized man, Johnny could tell, with muscular arms and a lean torso. He was obviously in good shape, but just as obviously was not God. Johnny refused to be intimated by this man, and laughed at his proclamation.

"God! _You?_ That's the funniest thing I've ever heard! You're God! My _ass_, you're God!"

"Be _silent_! Do not mock me! _I AM YOUR CREATOR_!"

The man's words made Johnny laugh even harder. "You are no creator of mine, pal," he said between snickers. "You're _no_thing! You're no God!"

"I _AM_ God, and _you_ will bow before me and _beg_ my forgiveness!"

"I will do no such thing," Johnny growled, his laughter suddenly replaced by anger.

At that moment, a frantic and distressed Gabriel rushed into the room. "Father! Father! What's wrong? I heard loud voices . . ."

"Gabriel, a wolf has infiltrated the flock!" The man said, pointing at John. "I told you this man would be trouble. Remove him from my sight!"

"Yes, Father!" Gabriel moved towards Johnny, who took a step backwards. "I should never have allowed Michael to bring you in here!" he growled. "I knew you were trouble from the start!"

Gabriel lunged towards Johnny, who side stepped him, and sent the man sprawling on the floor. He rose again, and Johnny inched along the side of the large bed, heading towards the door, intent on grabbing Mike and getting out of this nut house. Suddenly a large arm wrapped itself around Johnny's neck, effectively cutting off his air. He'd forgotten about the man in the bed who thought he was God, and now was struggling to get away from him. Gabriel stopped his movement watching the struggle before him.

"What should I do, Father?" He asked.

"Do nothing, Gabriel," the man said between gritted teeth as he squeezed Johnny's neck tighter. "Just be witness to my judgment upon this _heathen_!"

"Yes, Father!"

Gabriel fell to his knees and watched as his God strangled Johnny Gage.

Downstairs, Michael awoke to the sounds of raised voices and bumping and thumping sounds coming from upstairs. Others around him woke, too, but none seemed to be willing to investigate, so Michael went alone. The sounds seemed to be coming from up on the third floor where Gabriel often went to speak to God. The third floor was forbidden to all but Gabriel, but if Gabriel was in some kind of distress, he might need assistance, so Michael tossed aside his fear of retribution and quickly ascended the stairs.

Michael saw a light on in the room at the end of the hall, and made his way down there. What he saw inside the room made his blood run cold. Gabriel knelt on the floor in front of a large bed upon which sat a man Michael had never seen before who had Johnny in a choke hold. Michael rushed in shouting, "Stop! Stop! What are you doing? Gabriel! Help me!"

Michael reached for Johnny's arm to pull him away from the other man's grip while Gabriel remained where he was, staring at the strange man in awe. Michael could see Johnny's face was beet red and eyes were rolling back into his head, and heard him try to suck in air, his arms flailing helplessly as he began to lose consciousness.

"Let go of him! Let _go_!"

The man used the arm he was choking Johnny with to backhand Michael, sending him tumbling to the floor. Released from the man's grip, Johnny fell semi-conscious onto his hands and knees, on the floor, desperately sucking in air, coughing and gagging. Michael recovered quickly from the blow, and grabbed Johnny's arm, dragging him out of the room. Once in the hallway, Johnny began to stand on his shaky legs.

"Are you okay, Johnny?" Michael asked. "Can you stand? Can you walk?"

Johnny couldn't quite speak, so he nodded his answer to Michael's question.

"Heathens, be _gone_!" The voice of the false God boomed, and Michael only had a split second's warning before the hurricane lamp, which had illuminated the room, was hurled out the door at them. The glass lamp shattered against the wall, showering the hallway with oil, and the flames that followed.

Michael ran, half dragging Johnny as the flames began quickly consuming the upper floor. They headed down the stairs, tripping and stumbling most of the way.

As they reached the bottom, and picked themselves up, Gabriel, his robes and hair ablaze, stood at the top of the stairway, arms stretched out above his head.

"It is time, children!" he shouted. "God has summoned us! It is time! Rejoice! Rejoice! Bathe in the purifying flames of God!"

Michael and Johnny watched horrified as Gabriel was quickly consumed by the flames, his last words proclaiming glory to his God.

The fire quickly spread through the dry, old wooden home, and soon flames surrounded them. Many of the people ran joyfully into the fire rejoicing in God's glory as Gabriel had instructed them. Johnny tried to stop them, but they were determined, slipping out of his grasp to jump into the inferno. Johnny turned to Michael, the roar of the flames nearly deafening.

"We've got to get out of here!" Johnny shouted.

Michael's heart was filled with conflicting emotions. He looked around at the dancing flames, some of them with people writhing inside them. Shouts of praise and joy mingled with cries of pain and terror. The smell of smoke and burning flesh assaulted his nose. He'd been trained to put fires out, but Gabriel had told them all to be purified in God's flame.

Michael felt someone tugging on his arm, and turned to see Johnny shouting at him.

"Mike! We've got to get out of here! C'mon, man!"

"No!"

Johnny grabbed Michael's arm and pulled harder towards the front door. Michael pulled back.

"Dammit, Mike, come _on_!"

"But the others . . . they're going! I have to go with them!"

"They're not going anywhere, Mike, they're _dead_! Dead! Burned to death! Do you want to be dead, Mike?"

"But, God . . . he's taking us home, John!"

"Mike, God is not taking them home, us home, or _any_one home!" Johnny shouted, then coughed and choked on the thick smoke filing the room. "The person you thought was God was some crazy guy who slept on a nice soft bed while the rest of you slept on the floor! He sat up there watching television while you all prayed and weeded the garden! You saw it for yourself, Mike! What kind of God is that, Mike, huh?"

Michael didn't have an answer, and suddenly the fight went out of him. All around him, his brothers and sisters had become one with their God as He purified their souls and took them home, yet he and Johnny remained untouched by God's cleansing flame. He had been judged unworthy, and would not be going to Heaven. Finally, Michael allowed Johnny to lead him out of the house and on to the lawn.

The first of the fire trucks were just arriving, Station 51 among them, as Johnny sat Mike down in the grass, and began checking him over. He did not seem to be injured, but Mike was crying just the same.

"What's wrong, Mike?" Johnny asked, concerned. "Are you hurt somewhere? Did you get burned? Let me see, Mike! Tell me what's wrong!"

"He has forsaken me!" Michael said, weeping quietly. "God has forsaken me! I was one of the chosen; I was going to go with them! But He . . . He . . ."

Mike turned back to the house, now fully engulfed in flames. Hoses snaked towards the house, and firemen aimed streams of water on the inferno.

"He didn't take me!" Michael finished. "He didn't take me, Johnny! He left me behind!"

Johnny held Mike as he wept. He waved off assistance from the B-shift paramedics and Captain Friendly, saying they were both okay, but that there were approximately twenty people inside the house who probably weren't. He turned back to Mike unsure how to help his friend now. He didn't know what to say to the distraught man who believed his God had abandoned him, so Johnny simply held his sobbing friend, and said nothing.

It was a long while before Mike Stoker returned to his old life, and his old job. Captain Stanley put Mike on extended medical leave, and the department didn't put up a fight. Mike was hospitalized briefly, though he was physically uninjured from the fire. He was quiet and withdrawn for a time, before finally speaking to the department psychologist about his experience with the cult. The therapist, Dr. Rosen, brought in another doctor who specialized in deprogramming people who'd been in cults, and together they helped Mike return to the real world.

The A-shift crew would visit him from time to time, and Mike was initially suspicious of their attention. Soon, he came to realize that they visited him out of their concern for him, rather than out of some sense of obligation, and Mike eventually realized he could truly call these five men his friends.

The crew went through several different engineers before Mike was able to return to active duty, the Phantom making sure the stand-ins thought twice before eyeing Mike's precious engine too closely, and requesting a permanent position at 51s. On the day Mike returned to Station 51, the guys all came in early to greet him. They all smiled and clapped him on the back, welcoming him home. Mike smiled, a little embarrassed by the attention, but enjoying it just the same. He felt bad about not trusting these men before, and tried to apologize several times for the worry he'd caused them. One and all refused to accept the apology, saying Mike had nothing to be sorry for.

"You were lonely and feeling left out," Captain Stanley said, clamping his hand on the man's shoulder. "Those people _prey_ on that kind of thing, they _use_ those feelings, twist them around, to sway people, and get them to follow them. It's a power trip for these freaks!"

"But, Cap, I nearly got Johnny killed! And, all those other people . . ."

"Mike, stop it!" Johnny interjected. "I _chose_ to go in there to find out what it was all about. To make sure you were okay, and get you out if necessary. I accepted the possibility it might be dangerous. If it had been a perfectly harmless thing, like a commune or something, we were just going to leave you there where you'd be happy, but I had a bad feeling about it from the beginning, and Cap was con_vinc_ed you were in a cult. Once we found out what we were dealing with, we did what we had to to get you outta there! As for those other people, well, they were just as confused as you were, maybe more so. I'm _sorry_ that happened to them, but, Mike, you can't take responsibility for other people's decisions."

Mike sighed and hung his head. "I know, Johnny, I know," he said, then looked up at them and smiled. "Thanks, guys!"

He knew now everything Cap and Johnny said was true. He'd been over all that with his therapist and the doctor who specialized in cults, and together they convinced him it was not his fault he got sucked into the cult. Although Mike hadn't gone through a real intervention, he had had to come to terms with reality again. It hadn't been easy, but the strong show of support Mike had received from his crewmates had really helped him recover his former life.

Once roll call was taken and the announcements were made, Captain Stanley asked everyone to join him back in the kitchen. All but Mike wore huge grins on their faces - they all knew what was about to happen. Everyone gathered around the table, which had been empty earlier that morning, but now had several gaily-wrapped presents sitting on top of it. Mike eyed the gifts warily, and noticed the smiles on his crewmate's faces. Christmas was still several weeks away, he knew, and his birthday wasn't for another few months, but since he hadn't been told to bring anything, Mike got the feeling the gifts might be for him, to welcome him back to the station. The mere thought of it made him blush.

"Well, I suppose you're wondering why I've asked you all in here, and why there are several packages on the table," Captain Stanley said. "Well, at least one of us is wondering," he amended, clamping his hand on Mike Stoker's shoulder and squeezing it gently. "Mike, we wanted to welcome you back to station 51, and we wanted to apologize for making you feel _un_welcome before."

"Cap, it's not your fault," Mike insisted. "Guys . . ."

"No, Mike," Hank raised his hand to silence Mike's protest. "We weren't paying attention around here, and that was a mistake we _all_ made. We need to rely on each other during an emergency, and we can't really do that if we aren't aware of how our crewmates are feeling. We need to take care of each other, and I'm afraid in that department, we all failed you, Mike. And, we're all sorry."

Mike blushed even more as each of the men echoed Cap's apology.

"So, in honour of your return, Mike, we, ah, brought you a few things."

Mike looked from the pile of presents to the expectant eyes staring at him. "I . . . I don't know. . ."

"Just . . here, open mine!" Johnny was nearly ready to burst with excitement, and hastily shoved a flat, rectangular package at him.

Mike hesitated at first, but finally began ripping the bright orange paper down the middle. What emerged what a hardback copy of Ansel Adams photographs, just like the one Mike had given Johnny when he left to live with . . .

Mike shook his head to stop the train of thought. He didn't want to think about those people anymore.

"Wow, thanks, John," Mike said. "I always liked this book."

"Yeah, so did I," Johnny replied. "Thanks for letting me borrow it."

"Borrow?"

Mike looked at John confused. John just grinned at him. Mike opened up the cover, and turned the first two pages. On the title page was a familiar sentiment: _To Wilkes, with gratitude, Ansel Adams_.

It took a moment, but it finally dawned on Mike that this was _his_ copy of the book. Johnny had given it back.

One by one Mike opened the "gifts" only to find Marco had returned his grandmother's recipes (but not without copying them for his own use, the Latino fireman had confessed), Chet gave him back his truck keys, Roy handed over the uncashed check he'd written for the DeSoto children's college educations, until finally only a small box remained. Mike was pretty sure he knew what was inside, but he still looked at Captain Stanley uncertainly.

Hank smiled, and nodded. "Open it, Mike."

Mike did so, and after staring inside the box for a few moments, he gently lifted his grandfather's pocket watch out of the box by the long, gold chain. Mike dangled the watch in front of him for a long moment, the emotions welling up inside of him.

"But, I gave all these things away. . ." Mike began.

"Mike, we all know you weren't yourself when you did it. We all know you wouldn't normally have given these things away to anyone," Hank said.

"Yeah, man, it wasn't right for us to keep them," Chet agreed, though whether he was trying to convince Mike of that or himself, no one could quite tell. He looked longingly at the set of keys on the table. Mike caught the look, and deftly snatched the keys off the table, and stuck them in his shirt picket, giving the other fireman a slight glare. Chet's jaw dropped at the gesture, then his mouth pulled itself into a huge grin.

"Oh, yeah?" he said. "Well, fine! You can keep your old truck, Mike! You're welcome to it! _My_ car's a classic!"

"A classic?" Johnny snorted. "That old piece of crap you drive is a . . . a . . piece of . . . um"

"Ah, crap, Gage?" Chet offered. "That's real original!"

"Oh, yeah?" Johnny asked, becoming increasingly agitated.

"Yeah, Gage," Chet replied, and continued baiting Johnny.

The other men shook their heads in amusement, and pushed themselves back from the table with a symphony of scrapes and squeaks, leaving to begin their chores. They each patted Mike on the back as they passed him saying, "Welcome home, Mike!"

Captain Stanley was the last to go; Chet and Johnny having moved their argument out into the engine bay.

"I know I've said this already, but, it's good to have you back, Mike," the captain said smiling, then paused as a particularly loud exchange between Chet and Johnny blew into the kitchen.

"Yep," he continued to no one in particular, "it's nice to have things back to normal."

The End


End file.
